


Always Trust  to Hope

by Saraste



Series: Holiday ficlets 2016 [22]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: 2016 Holiday Ficlets, Angst, Denial, FiKiRi, Multi, Solstice, Working on Stone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 05:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8955868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: Fíli will never believe that it's happening, because it isn't.It isn’t.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I'm evil!

It’s another Solstice evening, two years from the one when he and Kee braided Ori and Ori them in turn, solidifying what they had already had, declaring their affection for all the world to see. The courting beads have now been exchanged for marriage beads, marriage braids woven in by eager loving hands, they are three and will always be three… until they are four.

 

Fíli looks down from his position leaning against the headboard of their bed at his brother, his beloved brother, and at their beloved scribe. Ori is snuggled in Kee’s arms, held close with Kee’s fingers running through his hair. 

 

Ori has taken the current events the hardest, even when it’s… it isn’t. Fíli cannot let himself think that way.  _ Everything is fine. _ The others know nothing. Their worried glances are, have been, unbased, for nothing at all is wrong.

 

...even if Ori’s anxiety tugs at Fíli’s heart, gnaws at him, tries to convince him that there is something wrong. Something  _ must _ be wrong for Ori to feel it this keenly, for their beloved scribe is not one to fret without reason, to let sadness in his heart without reason.

 

They are not alone in their room, this Solstice eve, as their families have gathered there in the wake of the sombre Solstice festivities of that day, even when Fíli felt, all through that day, that the sombreness was too soon, as there is still hope, for is there not always hope? Yet there they all now are, his and Kee’s mother, their uncles. Bilbo is holding a squirming pebble in his arms,  _ Fíli’s own cousin whom he can now hardly look at _ , Bilbo’s eyes so very sad, but then, he is a soft little Hobbit, whatever else he may have become in the last few years. Ori’s siblings are in attendance also, Nori sitting stiff by the fireside, hands in tight fists in his lap, Dwalin shadowing him behind the chair, Dori standing nearer the bed, eyes all for his youngest sibling, the lad he raised more than anyone. 

 

‘It’s not…’ the words are out before Fíli can stop them. He will not let more come out, he won’t, yet they do come, come to give voice to his denial. ‘There’s nothing to worry about yet, there’s  _ always  _  hope.’

 

Ori sobs harder and Kíli holds him tighter.

 

Fíli shakes his head. He cannot let himself believe that there is anything wrong, for it was him who made those last few touches, who worked on the pebble last, and he can’t bear the quilt if he’s done wrong. But his stone sense is true and he  _ knows _ , knows that which he cannot say out loud now, for it’ll make it real and it cannot be real. Simply cannot. He can't be the one to kill their joy, put out their hope, bury the dreams of these tomorrows.


End file.
